STAR WARS I: Fall of the Order
by Rougeification
Summary: SYOC. 19 BBY, the waning years of the Clone Wars. An end is within sight, but for five different Jedi, there can be no peace. There will be no escape. There is only the will of the Force.
1. Character Form

**Before we get down to business, a few ground rules…**

**This is a story mainly about Jedi who survive Order 66. So, be imaginative and original with **_**why**_** they survive. I swear, if I read anything about people getting visions or 'not trusting the clones…' I switch off – it's been done to death. Now, if you're struggling to come up with a reason why they survive, that's okay – I'm happy to work with you on a reason.  
**

**Skills. They can be powerful, but they're not going to rival Darth Vader or the Emperor or whatever.  
**

**Canon. This story is designed to fit in with the Disney Canon for Star Wars.  
**

**Potential. This 'story' is divided up into 6 instalments. It'll be spanning over roughly 16 years or so, so bear this in mind.  
**

**Label this clearly in your PM. It should look like this – 'Fall of the Order: [Character Name] – [Role – i.e. Jedi Knight, Smuggler, Inquisitor…]'.**

**Okay, let's get down to business. **

Name:

*Nicknames:

Age: (The story starts off in 19BBY)

Gender:

Species:

Homeworld: (Where they were born and/or raised)

Occupation:

Appearance: (Hair, eyes, height, build etc)

Personality:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

*Family: (Name, relation and relationship)

Motive: (To survive? To find someone? To restore the Order? To defeat the Empire?)

Backstory: (From their birth up to 19BBY)

*Weapons:

*Clothing: (Only answer this _if_ you are no submitting a Jedi)

Equipment:

*Ship:

*Droid: (Do they have a cute lil' helper?)

Opinions on…

The Jedi: (Order _and_ their Code)

The Republic:

The Empire: (_After_ it forms)

The Force: (Is it a tool to use? Do they even believe in it?)

**Jedi Form** (Only fill this out if you are submitting a Jedi)

Rank: (Initiate, Padawan, Knight, Master…)

Jedi Robes:

Lightsaber: (Basic description, including the general look of the hilt)

Forms: (Name 1-3 lightsaber forms they used in fights. The younger the Jedi is, the less forms they will be able to use. I _will_ say that Form VII was so rarely taught, so give an _amazing_ excuse on why they would know it).

*Master: (Who, how long were they together, what was their relationship like…)

*Padawan: (Who, how long were they together, what was their relationship like…)

Class:

The Force: (Do they use the Light Side or the Dark Side? Is there some conflict or temptation?)

**Requests…**

Romance:

Storyline:

Other:


	2. Avethelia I

**So, this was gonna be a lil' AN (Author's Note), but I was like 'hey, I can't get everyone's hopes up like that' so… yeah, I wrote a chapter introducing one of our main characters. But before we get to that, you should read this (if you're submitting a character, otherwise ignore me… or don't – I'm not the boss of you).**

**A bunch of you need to spend a bit more time on your characters. Do you know how many characters I've received in the past 3 days? Close to 26 now.**

**I've accepted 2. ****_Maybe_**** 3 (the third one is still up in the air a tad).**

**So, that's 7 Mandalorian bounty hunters, 9 Padawans that 'struggle with the Dark Side' and are between 17 and 19. Now, don't get me wrong – these are not bad characters. They just belong in ****_Star Wars_**** films and TV shows. This is specifically something to read. I don't want a discount Anakin or Mandalorian or whatever – I want characters that we've not really seen before (in terms of personality, mainly). Also, like, I turned 25 yesterday – that's really not old… r-right guys?**

**Oh, and no BD units. I know, BD-1 is adorable, but we don't all get one.**

**Okay, ****_long_**** rant over. I may sound a bit mean (sorry if I come off that way) but I can only type out the exact same responses so many times. Anyway, to balance out the blunt AN, here's the first chapter.**

* * *

_The Howling Ruins, Vaklin_

_19 BBY_

The small swab of cloth felt strange in her hand. Almost as if the soft brushing of her skin would tear it apart. It must've been, what, eight hundred years old? Older? Avethelia held it in her olive hands, biting her lip as she murmured incoherently to herself. It may have been a Jedi tunic!

She quickly pressed it to her layers of lilac and lily-white robes, examining how the ancient cloth compared. Well, it wasn't anywhere near as thick, but… well, Avethelia wasn't a fan of the cold and damp places. Vaklin suited her in that respect – hot and dry. Even in the depths of the ruins, she felt the heat. And even in her numerous layers of robes, she still shuddered at the odd draught when she descended too deep into the tunnels and tombs…

"Cub," Avethelia looked to the clone trooper that sat on the floor, wiping the sand out of his carbine blaster rifle, "Cub, take a look at this!"

The Clone let out a tinny sigh from within his red-striped helmet and pushed himself to his feet, walking down the long stone corridor to examine his Commander's latest find. "Ava?"

"I think this… I think this is what the Jedi wore about… well, I mean- maybe a millennia ago!"

Cub nodded. "…And?"

Avethelia blinked. "This is a piece of history that predates the Republic."

Cub's head cocked to the side. "The _Republic_?"

"Well, not the _Old _Republic but…" Avethelia shook her head. "Typical clone… I find something older than some planets themselves and he gets caught up in the nuances of Galactic and Old-"

"Oh, I'm sorry I can't appreciate a tablecloth," Cub scoffed from inside his helmet, "maybe it's my inferior clone's intellect."

"Clones don't have intellect…" Avethelia smirked at Cub, giving him a playful nudge with her elbow. "Go on, go join the others and… do whatever you do. There's hardly much down here to protect me from…" Avethelia gestured to the vestibule of dust, sand and stone. Nothing was heard but the gentle hum of the generator that powered the lights. Well… the hum and its echo.

Cub nodded and gave a salute. "Call upon me if needed," Cub said, walking down the hallway.

"If I need you to look at another tablecloth?"

"Go to Hell…" Cub replied, shaking his head and chuckling. Avethelia grinned and turned around to place the thin brown cloth upon the stone table, next to the other artefacts she had found – a rusted brass pommel, a shattered vibroblade she had nearly re-assembled (she was yet to find all the fragments) and what looked to be the antenna of a droid (she guessed). She could deduce that the Howling Ruins were indeed much older than she'd previously thought. Vibroblades, pommels, ancient Jedi attire – it was all ancient! Even the Temple of Imperfect Repose (which was near the base of the steep cliffs the Howling Ruins sat upon) had only been erected three hundred years ago. It was mesmerizing – she'd discovered something that _nobody_ else had! The thought made her insides swell and squeeze out the air from her chest.

She wished Fel Norven was there. Not particularly to see what she had discovered, she just missed him. While she was on the fringes of the Inner Rim, he was 11 sectors out, in the Outer Rim. She may as well have gone back to Coruscant and chartered a cruiser to run the Corellian – it'd be faster than the 720 Cruiser that ferried her around the galaxy.

Avethelia shook off the thought and brushed her red braids back from her freckled face. It was as her hands parted, however, that her dark green eyes shifted to something in the shadows. The smallest, faintest light with a blue hue. If it weren't for sunlight bleeding through the cracks in the pillars, reflecting the glassy object, she doubt she'd have even noticed it. But, Avethelia moved forwards, leaning down to gently brush away the sand from the object. Her bow-shaped lips curled up in glee as she gently began to slide a Jedi holocron from the sand! She'd only handled five holocrons in her life – not counting the ones she had studied as an Initiate or a Padawan. No, she meant _real_ holocrons – the relics of bygone eras. And pressing her fingers against the crystal side, she knew this holocron would hold secrets to _who_ exactly lived here. _How_ they spoke, _what_ they wanted to accomplish-

Then she realized that she only held half of a holocron. She hung her head and let out a breath of frustration before closing her eyes to cool her temper. '_Remain calm_,' she thought herself, '_there is no emotion, there is peace_…'

She opened her eyes – half a holocron wasn't very useful, therefore the other half would be close by. If she were a simple archaeologist, she'd ask for help, but the Force was with her. She had all the help she could need.

She pressed her hands to the crystal and closed her eyes, feeling the energy vibrate through the tips of her fingers as she touched the holocron, still hot from being lodged within the warm sand. She felt every ugly crack, every dulled corner and every jagged edge of the object, feeling something in the distance… something that seemed to slot into place with the broken pieces.

She opened her eyes and took a few steps forwards, peering down a hole in the stone floor and staring into the darkness.

"Of course…" Avethelia murmured to herself as she pulled at the grey cloak on her shoulders and placed it beside her satchel on the stone table. She pulled the comlink from her belt and pressed a button, hearing a beep.

"Yes, Ava?" Came Haze's voice.

"I need to find something in the ruins," Avethelia explained, "tell Cub and Bronzie to drop a rope."

"If you wait, we can accompany-"

"That's not necessary, Haze – I'll only be down there for a moment." Avethelia pulled on the wooden sleeve of the long hilt that sat on her belt. "When I'm back, we'll return to camp."

"Roger that."

Avethelia pressed the comlink to her pink lips once again. "Roger that…?"

"Roger that, _ma'am_," Haze replied sarcastically, making Ava grin.

"That's General ma'am to you, Commander." Ava put the commlink on her belt and hopped into the hole, feeling the air ruffle her lavender tabards and grey tunic, pressing against her wide shoulders and lean frame until she was slowly lowered towards the ground. Her feet gently pressed onto the sand and she clicked the button on the hilt, igniting an amber blade that illuminated her path into the darkness.

Avethelia's soft boots pressed against the cool stone as she heard sand serpents hiss and slither away, leaving small trails in the orange dust.

"Fantastic…" Avethelia muttered. Sand serpents were just… well, they were harmless as long as she didn't step on them. She continued on down the tunnel, shining her lightsaber against the walls in hopes of finding some mosaic or unlocked door on the way, but unfortunately, there was no such luck.

Instead, Avethelia came to the end of the tunnel, finding the glinting blue part of the holocron jammed underneath some debris. Maybe some of the Vaklinites had tried to pry out the holocron, only to have broken it…

She reached out with her fingers, brushing them against the cool crystalline object and let out a slow breath, allowing her senses to flow out around her and fall between the cracks of the debris. Very slowly, the broken part gently floated out of the cracks and travelled to her hands. She smiled to herself and hid the part in her tunic as she walked back down the tunnel (illuminating her path once again).

She found the black rope dangling at the edge of her amber light and clicked down the button on her hilt again, extinguishing the blade. Hooking the hilt onto her belt, she grabbed onto the rope and began to climb. It was only a matter of seconds before the rope was suddenly heaved upward and Avethelia was brought into the light, Cub and Bronzie holding the rope.

"Thank you, boys," Avethelia smiled as she hopped off the rope and onto the orange stone floor.

"You're here to work, not spelunk," Cub said as he gathered up the rope.

"Spelunking _is_ work," Avethelia replied as she walked down to the table, taking the other half of the holocron and placing it on the table, next to its other piece.

"Was it worth it, then?" Bronzie asked.

"Of course it was," Avethelia scoffed, "these relics are older than the ruins themselves. And what we've found has remained untouched since the Old Republic…"

"Untouched? _Them_?" Cub gestured to the shards of the vibroblade and the holocron halves. Avethelia paused.

"I mean, not _untouched_ but…" She shook her head and took both pieces of the holocron, walking across the hallway to sit cross-legged in the sunlight. She closed her eyes and let the warmth soak into her olive skin. She could feel the energy of Cub, yet to be deterred by war. She could feel Bronzie, his quiet disposition after seven months of action. She could feel the long, aching history of the ruins. Beads of sand being caught on the breeze…

She focused on the fragments in front of her, feeling them shift and twitch in directions to line up perfectly. A second later, it was as if she were not doing anything, but instead watching it happen. She opened her eyes to see the holocron restored (although it was _still_ damaged…). She took it in her hand and… nothing happened.

"Well, that was anti-climactic…" Cub muttered.

"It'll take time," Avethelia responded as she stood up.

"You're hopeful."

"Sometimes hope is all there is." Avethelia collected her artefacts and assembled them in a case. "Remember, Cub, just because you can't see the sun, it doesn't mean it's not still shining."

Cub looked to Bronzie, cocking his head. Bronzie sighed. "Jedi…"

* * *

**So, there we have it. Our first character – now, please send in more characters, there are ****_always_**** spots open. Remember what I said in the beginning if you're submitting and… yeah.**

**R.**


	3. Corrin I

**Okay, so submissions have slowed down… that's good – you're all listening to what I said and thanks for that. Just remember – put in thought and detail to your character, and I'll get back to you if I like them or want to use them or whatever.**

**Oh, and for those of you who don't want to come up with a lightsaber design for your characters, that's fine – I'm more than happy to create one in keeping with their personality and how they would use their lightsaber.**

**Damn, posting an AN means I have to write another chapter… okay, here goes. Two in one day…**

* * *

_The Starchaser, Gaulus Sector, Outer Rim Territories_

_19BBY_

Corrin Kordath knew that Padawans didn't particularly _need_ to wear robes, but Cero did so Corrin did – it was as simple as that for him. Cero was a soldier though, which was why his robes were adorned with a thick plated armour around his shoulders and chest, all emblazoned with the Republic's insignia.

Corrin was fifteen, yet to take part in any real battle. As if this wasn't embarrassing enough, it was shown by the fact that his dark robes weren't fitted with any armour either. After all, he'd only been Cero Genovan's Padawan for four years, and it wasn't getting any easier. He'd wake up for physical preparation and training, eat, train with his lightsaber, shadow Master Cero as he went about the Republic Cruiser, issuing orders and commanding the Clone Troopers.

Corrin watched as Master Cero stood at the holotable. He was a big, imposing figure, with blonde hair tied back into a tight bun as his steel grey eyes flickered across the hologram of the planet. Master Cero crossed his arms, and Corrin mimicked his movement, his amber eyes flickering from his Master to the clones.

"No retreat," Master Cero said in his baritone, "we defend Lokori to the last man. Reinforcements are en route, Commander."

"Yes, General." The second hologram of the clone crackled until the only light in the cabin came from the blue planet that rotated in front of them. Master Cero rubbed his eyes. He'd been fighting this war since that blasted day on Geonosis…

"Are they going to die?" Corrin asked his Master.

Corrin assumed Cero had picked the boy to be his Padawan because he had been promising in the tournament – he'd bested all he'd gone up against. But that _had_ been four years ago. Corrin was starting to doubt whether he was a promising warrior – perhaps the other apprentices had just been subpar. Regardless, Corrin knew he was was becoming too reliant – he followed Cero around like a lost pup, constantly asking his thoughts. How could Cero respect the boy? He had no independence… but, then again, wasn't a Padawan _meant_ to follow their Master around?

"Yes," Cero replied curtly, "such is the way in war."

Corrin nodded. "Maybe I'll actually be able to take part this time…" Corrin said with a slight scoff. Cero clenched his jaw and turned to the young boy.

"Jedi do not _yearn_ for battle, my young apprentice. And if you ever hope to be one, you'll remember that."

Corrin nodded. "Yes, Master." He paused, opening his mouth and closing it again. Corrin knew he shouldn't have asked – it wasn't his place, but… "Master… how can I learn what it is to be a Jedi if you don't take me with you?"

"Because Jedi are not warriors." He turned to the boy. "Perhaps you would already know this if you had studied like you were instructed to do so."

Corrin hung his head and let out a long breath. "Yes, Master. Sorry, Master."

Master Cero jerked his head to the door. "Go to the dojo. Train and practice with Shien. Your deflection is sloppy."

Corrin nodded and turned to leave. Cero knew he was too harsh on Corrin, he must have! Corrin figured that meant he actually _was_ failing. Maybe it was because a year into his training under Cero, the Clone Wars had erupted. Corrin's training did seem to take something of a back seat… Cero had failed to push him. Corrin had stagnated – he was nowhere near his potential. Corrin had once been skilled with his lightsaber, though he wondered how much of that was natural affinity and how much was Cin Drallig's tutoring at the temple on Coruscant.

Cero couldn't side line Corrin forever – he'd have to take the boy with him eventually… Corrin just needed to stick around until then.

Corrin was in the dojo, twirling his blue lightsaber as he deflected several blue streaks of blasterfire. Finally, he felt a prickling sting against his forehead and let out a hiss as he rubbed his face.

"What the…"

"You're not paying attention, kid," the clone trooper, Critter, stated from the end of the room as he took up his stance again.

"Right…" Corrin scratched the back of his hair, fiddling with the small bun at the back of his head before flourishing his lightsaber again. Streaks of blasterfire soared towards him. Corrin tried to remember the stances Master Drallig had taught him… Zones two and three were protected with a high guard, so the blade would be held diagonally-

Corrin let out a hiss as the fourth bolt stung his ear. He winced and gritted his teeth, trying not to show pain.

"Kid, you're not getting better at this-"

"I know, I know," Corrin muttered, hanging his head. "I _am_ trying."

Critter had known Corrin since he'd arrived on the ship a year and a half ago. He glanced around to make sure Cero wasn't in earshot and called over to Corrin. "Why are you standing there?"

Corrin frowned. "What?"

"I mean… well, look, I'm no Jedi, but if you're standing there, you're not going to defeat the enemy."

"Jedi can redirect blaster-"

"Can _you_?" Critter asked. He readied his carbine blaster again. "Just don't kill me, remember?"

Corrin nodded, removing one hand from the hilt and shifting his weight to one leg. Critter took a breath and began firing. Corrin sprang forwards, rushing with his lightsaber swiping at the blaster bolts, sending them off into the corners of the room. He came closer and raised his lightsaber with both hands.

Another sting. Another pain. This time on his cheek. Corrin landed hard on the floor and rubbed his face, looking up at Critter and his heavy _heavy_ rifle. "That's not fair…" Corrin grunted.

"That's war," Critter replied as he marched idly to the other end of the room and took up his position. "You know, he'll never take you down there if you don't get better."

"I know, I'm trying…"

"Trying's good, but it's not enough-"

"I know!" Corrin snapped. He wasn't good enough. He wasn't an idiot, he knew he wasn't on-track. Master Cero had made a mistake in choosing him as his Padawan – it's why he wasn't there training him himself. Why waste the time? It was stupid – Corrin should've just come to terms with it. He was never going to make it.

No… no, Corrin was meant to be a Jedi. He wasn't going to quit – not after eleven years of his life training! He clenched the sleeve of his hilt with his left hand, feeling the rubber on the handle squeeze as the durasteel pommel dug into the bottom of his palm. He let out a small breath and brought the hilt down to his waist and gritted his teeth.

He'd beat Critter this time. Corrin saw a streak of blow and chopped his lightsaber forwards as he heard the shot. There was a crackle as his deep blue blade collided with the bolt and sent it a good few feet over the Clone's shoulder. Corrin saw another bolt and flinched, ducking as he heard it. He rolled along the floor, leaning away from the blade as he looked up to see Critter had stopped firing.

Corrin rose to his feet, extinguishing his blade. "Why did you stop?"

"You might've hurt yourself…"

Corrin gripped his hilt tightly. "I want to be a Jedi. I need to push myself…" He walked back to his former position and ignited the blade, taking his stance as he watched Critter take aim once again.

* * *

**Yup. The only Padawan in the story (thus far). So, I'll update this story when I get another main character so… keep 'em coming!**

**R.**


	4. Mera I

**Okay, so had a bit of a break because, well, as I said, I'd wait until I had more characters. So, here's the 2****nd**** Padawan of the story…**

* * *

_The Jedi Grand Temple, Coruscant_

_19 BBY_

Her emerald-green eyes opened instantly. There was something in her stomach – a pit of some sort. Even sitting cross-legged, she felt as though she was going to fall over. Her throat was tight- too tight to even allow her to breathe properly.

A strong hand clasped her back. "Focus on what you see, Mera."

Her bright eyes flickered across the room, focusing on the blinds with the rising sun's light bleeding into the room. She looked at the floor of the chamber, emblazoned with the burgundy insignia of the Republic. She looked to the sleek metal walls, glimmering in the sunlight and dull in the darkness. She looked up to the blue Togruta that knelt beside her.

"Ursla," Mera choked out the word, "She's…" Mera closed her eyes again, clasping her stomach.

"Peace child," Master Zwen said to the girl, "She's on Lokori with-"

"No," Mera grunted as she pushed herself back up, "I felt her, she…" Mera moved her hand away from her stomach and looked at her hand. The pain, the stinging, the panic – she'd expected to see blood on her hand. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked up into the black eyes of her Master.

"You're worried for your friend," Master Zwen said, biting her lip as she examined the thirteen-year-old child. "I understand. But remember, Padawan, that this fear in you can disrupt the Force's flow." She rose to her feet. "To be a Jedi is to be a clear conduit for the light…"

Mera kept her jaw shut; she never really understood a lot of what Master Zwen said, but she knew this much – feelings were bad. And the way she _needed_ Ursla… that was something she didn't really want to tell Zwen. Not because it wasn't any of her business, Mera didn't want to upset her. After all, Zwen her been her master for nearly three years, and she knew why…

Mera never found anything easy. Nor was she good with a lightsaber – in fact, she'd lost her first match in the tournament by injuring herself with it. But Master Zwen had been the one to seek out Mera in Theed and tell the young girl what the Force was. Mera had been very young, but she still remembered Master Zwen promising her parents she would be kept safe.

"Mera? Are you listening?"

Mera rose up and nodded. "Yes, Master."

"No, you aren't," Zwen smiled, brushing her pale blue hand against Mera's freckled cheeks. "Remember, child, there is no emotion."

"Of course, Master."

Zwen smiled. "Go and find Master Cin Drallig – your saber-skills are in dire need of refining." Zwen raised an eyebrow and squeezed Mera's shoulder before exiting the meditation chamber.

Mera took out the holopad from her belt – the numbers were already set to Ursla's frequency from their last talk. She brushed a hand over the arcetron and bit her lip as she contemplated whether or not to call her.

It buzzed and rang for a good few seconds. Mera hated how she was always waiting for Ursla to pick up. Eventually she turned off the holopad – sending another transmission would just make her seem… well, she didn't know how it would make her seem. She fitted the holopad back into her belt and made her way to the dojo.

Mera had expected to find the Jedi Battlemaster, Cin Drallig, there, instructing a class of younglings in their training. Instead, she saw a Zabrak, clad in white robes as he twirled around a lightsaber, dual blue hilts flashing around his body with a loud humming sound as he practiced the sequences, a smiled carved across his lips as he pretended not to watch the younger Padawans marvel at his skill.

He was a couple of years older than Mera. Ajan, his name was, and Mera was amazed he was even still in the Temple! The Zabrak boy often left in the dead of night to visit women in the seedier, more dangerous parts of town. She wasn't entirely sure _why_ he snuck out… Jedi were allowed come and go as they pleased, weren't they? Maybe his Master wouldn't have approved but… well, _Mera _was allowed out, and everyone she knew was…

"He's been doing this for ten minutes now…" The voice of a Jedi came from beside her. Mera looked to see the dark-haired, blue-eyed young woman sit down beside her. Serra Keto was Cin Drallig's best student – a beauty and an accomplished Jedi. Whereas Ajan boasted to be the most skilled duellist his age, Serra actually _was_ – she was the only one that could compete with Master Drallig in sparring matches. "He says he only lost at the tournament because the last three initiates teamed up on him," Serra scoffed.

"Is he lying?" Mera frowned.

"Of course he's lying- I was _at_ the tournament," Serra chuckled, "the idiot was twirling around so much he tripped himself up." Mera allowed herself to smile, but not actually laugh – after all, she failed in her first match. "No, I'm just joking. He's fine, he's just… I think he wants to be the best. But, I guess, who doesn't, right?"

Serra drifted off talking about Ajan's poor footing for his form and began explaining to Mera how he should correct himself and why. It would've been interesting but Mera just couldn't stop figuring out whether or not she should contact Ursla or not. What if it was a premonition? Jedi had premonitions, didn't they?

Her fingers closed around the arcetron…

No… no, calling Ursla would just panic Mera more. And Master Zwen was right, she needed to learn to separate her head from her heart. If she called, she'd continue letting her heart rule her. She needed to practice living with her emotions.

"…I don't know how I'll make it through the evening." Mera turned to Serra with a frown. "I mean the rehearsal, not the _actual _kai-kan…" Serra explained. "You know, he actually thought _he_ should duel in the place of Revan." Serra rolled her eyes. "Why don't you volunteer for the kai-kans? Master Drallig would certainly appreciate it…"

Why wouldn't Mera want to? Because she was clumsy at best with a lightsaber. But, if she would be helping out… "Sure. I'll come along tomorrow and inform Master Drallig."

Mera returned to her quarters and shed her brown robes and pulled at her beige tabard, flopping onto her bed and letting out a sigh as her hand dropped onto her belt, cupping the bulge of the holopad. She licked her lips and pulled out the holopad, checking the frequency numbers carefully… no, they were definitely right… She pressed to call and waited, listening to the buzzing for a full minute.

No answer.

Mera sat up. Her breath quickened as she desperately turned the holopad off and on again. She re-entered all the numbers for Ursla's frequency and…

No answer. Two minutes of buzzing.

Mera was about to attempt a transmission for a third time when the door to her chambers slid open and the sky-blue Togruta entered, her brown robes forming a small shadow.

"Mera?" Master Zwen said softly.

"Master, I- sorry, I was just…" Mera began to put the holopad back into her belt.

"Mera, I'm afraid I have some news…" Master Zwen sat down on the bed beside Mera and took a breath. "Ursla and Master Morro were leading a strike force onto a CIS base and…" Zwen's purple tongue slid across her lips as she took a breath. "They were ambushed."

Mera's stomach was pulled back into that pit as her chest felt like it caved inwards. Ursla was also only thirteen… She could picture the indigo Twilek, motionless on the floor, the hilt of her lightsaber rolling across the floor as she let out a final breath.

"Remember, Padawan, there is no death, there is the Force."

Mera's jaw clenched as she felt a blizzard erupt inside herself – a tornado that froze every part of her insides. Zwen didn't understand that – how could she? Could the Force bring Ursla back? Could it prevent death? Then why did it matter- how did it cancel out death itself?

"Forgive me, Master, but I wish to be alone," Mera said softly, clearing her throat. Zwen opened her mouth, but thought better of it, and patted Mera on the shoulder before standing up and exiting the room. Mera then slid onto her bed, her bottom lip quaking as she tried to fight off the one fact in her mind – she was going to live in a world without Ursla.

* * *

**So, yeah, that's it for now. Still waiting on more Jedi – I'd rather have a Jedi Knight this time (Male, to keep things balanced). Anyhoo, keep submitting guys, and don't forget to drop a review!**

**I'll post again when I get another main character.**

**R.**


	5. Ruv I

**So, I'll level with you, not a bunch ****_happens_**** this chapter, it's more of an introduction. But I think I've done something different to the other characters so… enjo (No, that's not a typo).**

_Dantooine, The Raioballo Sector, Outer Rim Territories_

_19BBY_

Ruv Arcave often found his mind wondering as he examined the burned wound on the trooper's leg. He'd been on the front for a year now, tending to the wounded clones in the tent and, on occasion, assisting his Master, To-Gollo, in reconnaissance missions. But treating the blaster burns of troopers? That was what Ruv excelled at – healing.

His mind travelled back across the galaxy and across all those years, back to when he'd first met his Master – a year after the tournament. Placing fifth out of all the other Initiates, Ruv had surprised even himself. True, he had no inherent skill, but he had his mind. Tactics, strategy, it was very straight forward to him – he could calculate what the opponent would do. That is, of course, until he came to duel Corrin Kordath. Four years had passed since the tournament, and he still didn't know whether Corrin won because he was the better duellist, or if his unpredictable style was what gave him the edge.

He cast his mind back to the final minute of the duel: Ruv was standing on one side, the curved hilt of his green lightsaber sitting comfortably in his palm. The chromium was stiff and cold – yet to be wrapped in the white linen that would soften to his skin. The eleven-year-old Ruv had wiped the beads of sweat from his leafy-green face, trying to keep his breathing even and mind calm. The human boy opposite Ruv was Corrin, his brown hair cropped short and the small braid behind his ear sodden with sweat as he gripped the ribbed sleeve of his blue lightsaber, raising it above his head as his honey-dropped eyes narrowed at Ruv.

Ruv could still recall the thoughts in his head as he began to try and calculate a manoeuvre. Corrin was demonstrating a typical Shien guard – useless in a duel. So, Ruv went to strike at Corrin's leg and this was his downfall. Corrin brought down his blade swiftly, colliding the deep blue streak against the green and sending the lightsaber clattering out of Ruv's hand. A _Sun djem_. Corrin kicked Ruv in the chest and raised his lightsaber again, ready (and seemingly willing) to continue the duel if needs be. Ruv, somewhat exhausted, managed to lift his head off the ground to see his lightsaber a few feet away from him and dropped his head back onto the ground, gulping down air.

"…Alright, I think it's clean, sir."

Ruv blinked and looked down to see the clone trooper pulling his arm back from the young man. Ruv gave a nervous chuckle and made his way across to the next bed. The tent was lined with platoon's worth of cots, all occupied with injured troopers who'd be sent out to fight once they were healed. Ruv knew it wasn't good, but he couldn't tell them apart. Now they were out of their own customized armour, he just felt as though he was treating the same wounds on the same people… which he was, in a sense.

Ruv pulled at his grey tabard as he sat down next to the trooper, examining the bloodied mess of an arm – he didn't gag or wince anymore. Not really, anyway… "I'll talk to Master To-Gollo and see if we can have some cybernetics…" Ruv suddenly screwed his eyes shut as he felt something. Pain… disappointment? Shame… He saw the clone trooper would not meet his gaze. "You'll get your arm back," Ruv reassured him, patting him on the shoulder.

"Won't be mine. Sir," The trooper replied curtly before turning over in his bed.

Ruv couldn't blame him for acting this way – how many troopers had been dismembered in the past three years of war? Ruv couldn't even remember all of their names. After a year of travelling from planet to planet, all he could remember were the injuries.

"It's okay," Ruv said quietly, "you'll get through this." Ruv placed a hand on the trooper's shoulder patted him gently before standing up to move onto the next patient.

* * *

Ruv sat cross-legged on the grassy fields of the Khoonda Plains. The world here was nice – calm, even. A strange place for a battle. Closing his eyes, Ruv felt the air sweep through his dark hair. He pulled the burgundy ribbon from his hair to let it fall to his shoulders and dance in the breeze. Ruv could feel the colours of the planet – olive, brown and blue. The moons starting to glow in the fading rays of the evening sun that bled through the rustling blades of lavender and yellow grass.

Ruv could feel death. He could feel the first breath of a newborn in a family estate nearby. He could feel pain and joy… balance. It was the Force. The same energy that had been there since the dawn of time – that every living organism was bonded to. No… no, they were bonded to each other _through_ the Force. His ancestors – they'd all felt the same Force he felt. They were with him.

Ruv opened his eyes and let out a long exhale. It was good to meditate – he'd yet to see any premonitions like he'd been forewarned about by his Master, but he wasn't trying to have a vision. No, Ruv used to struggle with meditation when he was younger – an overactive imagination, no doubt – but he persevered. Ruv knew he wasn't the best with a lightsaber or the most in tune with the Force – he didn't even know if he actually _was_ the smartest one during the initiations, but he could safely say that he tried the most out of them all.

"Are you struggling to maintain your focus, my Padawan?" Master To-Gollo, the Weequay, said from beside him.

"No, Master, I just wanted to appreciate-"

"Well, I suppose there's hardly any point in meditating alone then…" To-Gollo opened his eyes and looked out across the landscape. "Wouldn't that be rude?" He smirked.

Ruv chuckled and examined the landscape with his eyes. "I know that through the Force we don't need to… I… but just look…" He shook his head. "You'd never think there was so much war…"

"There has to be peace somewhere, Ruv – the Force is balance."

Ruv frowned. "But the Jedi only use the light of the Force, Master. So… how can there be any balance?"

To-Gollo opened his mouth and closed it again. "The… people are incapable of defying the dark side's seduction. There can be no balance as the darkness will consume you."

Ruv's dark brow stitched itself together. "Then… how can the Force be balanced?"

To-Gollo looked to Ruv with a raised eyebrow. "Back to meditation, now."

Ruv let out a sharp breath as he closed his eyes once more.

**Yup, that's it – short and sweet… plus I'm in a rush – I'm actually uploading this on the train. But yeah, I hope you all enjoyed this and I'll see ya soon-ish as I've already started on the next chapter.**

**Now, I've got enough characters to be getting on with, but feel free to send in Non-Jedi – so, your Leia's and Han's and Lando's and what have you. Also, remember to drop those reviews.**

**R.**


	6. Ving I

**So, there's been a lull in uploading, but to be honest, that's because I was trying to figure out who to introduce next and how so… here ya go!**

* * *

_Tomb of Ludo Kressh, Valley of the Dark Lords, Moraband_

_19BBY_

Ving swept back his fair hair and glanced around at the red sand – so much history. How many slaves did it take to sculpt and hollow out the planet to make the tombs? Ving swept a hand across his smooth fair hair as he journeyed down the cavernous tunnels, green lightsaber blazing brightly as he explored the strange pull inside the depths. It was something… strong – heavy like the pull of gravity. With each step, the walls of rock seem to close around him: staglites reaching out like malicious tendrils to wrap around his throat.

Suddenly, his holopad began beeping at his belt. He looked down to pluck it out and answer the transmission. "This is hardly the time for a chat," Ving replied curtly as he recognized the blue, flickering hologram of his friend.

"I've been trying to reach you for almost a day now, where have you been?" Xyras crossed his arms.

"Walking, crouching…" Ving raised his lightsaber to illuminate his journey deeper into the cavern. "There was also some climbing involved."

"Very droll, Ving…" Xyras murmured.

"The Council has asked you to return to Coruscant."

Ving rolled his eyes as he set the holopad down on a rock and leant down to feel the ground. "That's nice – they're asking for a change." It was no longer natural stone – it was paved. _Crafted_. No longer a normal cave… he must've been directly below the Valley of the Dark Lords!

"You know what I mean…"

"I do…" Xyras huffed. "Look, I'm just… I figure I'd save you another lecture, Ving. One friend to another."

Ving almost cracked a smile as he straightened up to look at Xyras. "Worry about yourself, Xyras – last I heard, Master Windu threatened excommunication."

Xyras let out a small scoff. "No… he didn't…"

"You're an awful liar, Xyras. But, in my experience, the best Jedi are."

"That explains why you're so good at it then."

"Doesn't it just?" Ving picked up the holopad once again. "Tell the Council I'll find my way back to Coruscant eventually."

"Eventually?"

"It's a fourteen-sector journey," Ving explained as he walked across a carved bridge that spanned a great chasm.

"Ving, can you tell them yourself? I don't much enjoy being the go-between…"

"I would, but then they'd see my co-ordinates…"

"Co-ordinates?" Xyras frowned. "But aren't you…" Xyras looked down and then back up. "Ving, that's crossing a line…"

"I thought you were trying to help me _avoid_ a lecture?"

"You're on a Sith world, it's dangerous-"

"Your concern is touching," Ving said as he raised his lightsaber to see the stone archway of an entrance. Something was prickling him – light static shocks that tingled along his arms. He stepped over the skeletons of shyracks and hssiss amongst other strange and unfamiliar beasts and continued on.

"What are you doing?"

"This tomb isn't like the others… it's hidden. Like… it's lost…"

"You're in the Valley of the Dark Lords?"

"It's Kressh's tomb," Ving murmured as he drifted a hand across the stone walls, feeling the malevolence soaking through the walls like blood through linen. "That'd make this nearly… five millennia old…"

"Ving, you're being a fool, it's dangerous to-"

"Who's the greater fool? The one who makes rules or the one who breaks them?" Ving lowered his lightsaber to his side as light peered through the cracks at the top of the tomb. "Tell the Council you delivered your message. Good luck, friend." Ving ended the transmission and tossed the holopad into the depths of the tomb. Well, the Council would have a hard time reaching him after that, wouldn't they?

To the best of Ving's knowledge, Ludo Kressh was killed during the attack on the planet amidst the Great Hyperspace War. This meant that the infamous Sith Lord's body was interred in the heart of the very tomb he walked in. After Kressh's death, Naga Sadow took power and retreated to Dromund Kaas with what remained of the Sith Empire. Then the Supreme Chancellor Pultimo ordered the bombing of the planet, which led to the rubble he had climbed across on the surface.

That was about as much Ving could be certain of: The Jedi Archives housed vast accounts and records, but it was all skewed in accordance with the Order's goals. There was very little he could find on Moraband besides it's ancient name, Korriban. He knew Revan journeyed there, along with Meetra Surik.

A beam of white light illuminated the centre of the antechamber he found himself in. His steps slowed as he saw a grey Nautolan standing in her dark robes, her red eyes closed. Ving crossed his arms.

"Master Taro," Ving said slowly. The Nautolan opened her eyes and moved her large scarlet eyes over him.

"You've grown, my Padawan."

"Well, that does tend to happen…" Ving strolled around the tomb, looking for another hallway. "I don't suppose you found another way inside?"

"Of course not, Ving," Taro-Ra replied, her head turned to follow Ving as he walked around.

"So you came the way I did?"

"Search your feelings, my Padawan."

Ving looked at Taro for a moment. There was no dust on her robes, no blemishes or bruises on her skin. No mist in her breath. "You're an illusion," Ving stated.

"Apt as ever, my Padawan."

"So, this is some Sith trick to drive me to madness?"

"Or perhaps this is to show you who you truly are."

"And what are the odds of that?" Ving scoffed.

"Remember what I told you about the Force, my Padawan."

There was a rumble as the antechamber shook and a piece of the ceiling gave way. Dazzling light shone through to reveal a passage on the other side of the cavern. Ving turned back to look at Taro-Ra, but she had disappeared. Ving was left there, his gauntlet-clad hand resting on his hip as he looked towards the pathway. "The Force doesn't make mistakes…" He muttered to himself as he walked forwards, his lightsaber in hand as his white armour clinked beneath his burgundy cape.

"General Ximara!" Ving turned around to see a clone rushing towards him, a squadron following him close behind.

"Sergeant?"

"They've broken through our ranks, sir- we'll be overrun if we don't hold this perimeter!" The clone said urgently. Ving turned around – they were still in the antechamber. The scenery hadn't changed… "Orders, sir?"

Ving examined the burgundy and teal stripes on their armour. Delta-9 Squadron. Back when they first tried to re-take Lokori… He knew exactly what this tomb was showing him. "We need this LZ, Sergeant. If the Force wills us to keep it, we shall."

The sergeant saluted. "Yes, sir."

The light died as Ving heard blaster-fire, followed by screams and yells, hard thuds and cracks. The light slowly returned, and Ving saw the bodies lying all around him, limbs torn apart and helmets caved in, the heads still inside.

"You commanded them to fight to their deaths," Master Taro's voice echoed throughout the cavern as she appeared beside Ving, examining him with narrowed eyes. "Was it worth it?"

"I don't know," Ving replied. "I'll let you know when we win the war."

Taro-Ra gave a twisted smirk. "Do you believe you _should_? Everywhere the Republic has gone, it has only brought greater suffering. War, pestilence-"

"I know this is a trick," Ving said stiffly. "I won't succumb to this."

"We shall see, my Padawan." Taro-Ra walked backwards, disappearing into the shadows.

Ving ignited his green lightsaber once again, walking down towards another antechamber. This time, the pathway was more like a corridor. He could see from the illumination of his lightsaber that the walls had been meticulously carved. A strange light emanated from the troughs on either side of the walkway.

Ving heard whispers. He couldn't make out what they were saying but… they were real. The voices of Jedi who'd tried to make their way inside the tomb? The voices of slaves who built it? The voices of Sith who killed both?

Ving came to a vast chamber. The air was still like a frozen river. This room no longer seemed like the inside of a cave, but this was truly a tomb. Ving stepped forwards, expecting to find Master Taro somewhere in the tomb. But, as he delved deeper beneath the surface and came closer to a bronze sarcophagus, he found that he was alone. But also… he was not. The voices, the air… he wasn't alone. He could never be alone; the Force was with him.

Ving closed a hand around the rusted coffin and looked inside at the desiccated bones and rags. Nothing – somebody had beat him to finding whatever valuables Ludo Kressh had left behind. Instead, Ving just looked at the remains of what had once been the greatest Sith Lord. Between the rags that hung off the skeleton, he made out something glinting. This was it… the thing that had called to him from the start.

"Excuse me…" Ving muttered as he lifted the skeleton to see it. A small red crystal, about the length and width of his thumb. He held it in his hands, feeling the rage coursing through it. It was a parasite – something that seemed to leech into him as soon as it fit inside his palm. A kyber crystal, naturally attuned to the dark side. It was a shame he'd thrown the holopad away…

Now he couldn't tell the Council he'd be late.

* * *

**So, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! So, one more main character to introduce and then we're all set.** **Review and so on – I do read **_**every**_** review I get, so they're appreciated and your voice is heard.**

**R.**


	7. Xyras I

**Yup, here's another chapter. Introducing our 5****th**** Main character…**

* * *

_Jedi Grand Temple, Coruscant, Core Systems_

_19 BBY_

Xyras Droma stormed down the hallway of the Grand Temple, hissing out a breath as he ignored Zwen's voice.

"Xyras… Xyras, calm yourself. There is no emotion-"

"Don't!" Xyras hissed. "I'm sick of hearing it…" He swept a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his face. "I'm allowed to be angry- they're talking about expelling my friend- my _best_ friend!"

"Jedi don't have attachments-"

"So say a bunch of old men that spend all day debating ideals!" Xyras walked over to the windows and let out another breath of frustration, rubbing his fingers into his groomed dark beard. "Maybe I should go with him…"

"Don't be stupid."

"Zwen, I…" Xyras bit his lip and tried to figure out how to explain it… "He's from Alderaan. His parents knew he'd be a Jedi- he went back to visit them every year and…" Xyras sighed. "My father was shot dead on Nar Shadaa before I was born. My mother dropped me off here so she could spend all her credits on spice." He looked back to Zwen. "Every day I was with him, I wanted to hate him. I think a small part of me did, but… he's my brother, Zwen. He's the only family I've known."

"Xyras… feeling that way- even about someone you've known your whole life-"

"I know it's… I know I shouldn't." Xyras clenched his jaw. He knew he was a Jedi and all Jedi had the same challenges and tests but not like he did.

Just when Xyras was about to complain further, he spied a young girl. A human, like him, but with red hair and pale, porcelain skin. Her bright green eyes glinted as she spoke quietly to Zwen.

"Master, may I speak with you?"

Zwen turned from her Padawan to Xyras. "Xyras, you've not met Mera yet – my Padawan."

Xyras breathed out the last of his anger and walked towards the young girl. "How old are you?"

"Thirteen…" Mera said uncertainly.

"You're tall for your age," Xyras said plainly. He glanced to Zwen and then to Mera once more. "You've been with Zwen for two years then?" Mera nodded. "You're lucky. I failed my initial tests. I didn't receive a formal Master until I was fourteen."

Mera frowned for a moment and opened her mouth before quickly closing it and giving a polite smile. "Master, I was meant to train with Master Drallig, but he's instructing a class…"

"Ah, well… I suppose I could spar with you…" Zwen began.

"I'll do it," Xyras said quickly, "that is, if it's alright with you, Zwen?"

"Alright with me?" Zwen frowned. "I didn't know you're familiar with training a Padawan…"

"I'm not," Xyras said simply, "but I expect I'll be instructing my own soon enough. I'd appreciate the opportunity. Besides… you're an awful swordswoman."

Zwen rolled her eyes. "Does this suffice, Mera?"

Mera shrugged and Zwen smiled, patting the girl on the shoulder and following her to

the dojo with Xyras.

Mera's lightsaber fit snugly in her hand, the blue blade glowing dimly in the sun-drenched dojo. Xyras, on the other hand, had shed his brown robe and stood in his cream tabard and breeches, a shoto hilt in his right hand.

Mera ignited her lightsaber, holding the blade diagonally across her body. Xyras raised an eyebrow as he ignited the silver hilt, a cyan blade burning brightly. "Djem So is not an apt form for you, Mera," Xyras explained, "you need to be twice your size to be able to use it."

Mera bit her lip, glancing to her master (who nodded back to her) and shifting her guard to a simple stance, holding the hilt at her navel. Xyras grinned and walked towards her, lightsaber at his side.

"Shii-co is good against several enemies," he explained, "but not what you should use against a single enemy." He held his blade diagonally across his body. "Form VI is a useful tool. Used against anything and anyone." Mera frowned as she mimicked his guard – it felt unnatural, her elbow cocking out to the side. "What's wrong?"

"It feels like everything's off," she admitted, "like my left side-"

"Zone three," Zwen corrected Mera.

"It feels like it's too open."

"Then fix it," Xyras said simply. The training ball hovered over to them with a whir as Xyras ignited his own cyan blade, holding the hilt in reverse grip. He raised it up so the hilt was directly in front of his hand and began to flash his blade around his body, deflecting sapphire and azure streaks away from his body. "The trick… to Niman…" he grunted as he dodged a bolt, "is to anticipate an attack…" He swung his lightsaber around and batted a blue bolt back at the ball, which crackled and dropped to the floor. Xyras deactivated his lightsaber and turned to Mera. "Don't let your thoughts distract you from your feelings. Lean into your reflexes… act with confidence."

Mera closed her eyes and let out a long breath before igniting her blue blade with a crackle. Xyras raised a hand and the training ball hovered in the air once more. Mera's bright green eyes tracked the small durasteel ball as it rotated and revolved around her.

Xyras walked over to Zwen, clipping his lightsaber back to his belt as he watched the young girl defend herself (somewhat clumsily).

"You're good with her," Zwen told Xyras. "You should watch the tournament this year – see if there's a Padawan…"

"I meant what I said, Zwen," Xyras said lowly. "If Ving is expelled, I'm going with him."

"You think he'd do the same for you?"

"You know Ving…" Xyras chuckled, "only does what the Force compels him to. But…" Xyras shrugged. "Who else do I have?"

Out of the corner of his sapphire eye, Xyras saw Zwen open her mouth, only to close it once again. "For what it's worth, I hope you don't," Zwen said quietly as they watched Mera struggle to deflect the blaster bolts.

* * *

**I know it's not super long, but honestly, I was stumped with this one – it took me ages to come up with this because the creator was very particular about the sort of person Xyras is, so I wanted to make sure I got it right.**

**Anyway, the next chapter will be up in a few hours, and we're going to check in with Avethelia on Vaklin – it'll likely be the length of this chapter because, after all, I'm just introducing the characters.**

**R.**


	8. Avethelia II

**So, this quick update is because I've spent ages not updating.**

**I've gotta say, I'm kinda disappointed by the lack of people reviewing. I get it, though – you don't want to read something your characters aren't in (which is fair enough). But, even those who do have characters in this aren't reviewing so… well, if people aren't interested, I might open up main character slots again for the sake of those who read this and didn't get to submit a character for a main slot.**

**Anyhoo, let's check in with Avethelia.**

* * *

_The Howling Ruins, Vaklin_

_19BBY_

Avethelia watched as Regs rubbed the fresh new scar on his temples, wincing as he sat up. She sat on the red rock, watching the clone trooper's eyes find her. He smiled a little bit as she leant back, pushing her braids back over her shoulders.

"All good?" Regs asked gruffly. Avethelia responded by handing him the tiny piece of blackened durasteel. He held it in his hands – such a miniscule thing, to keep him in line. Docile and obedient. Avethelia knew what she was talking about – Regs couldn't imagine the surgery sitting well with anyone – regardless of whether a Jedi did it or not. He gave a small smile as he looked back up to her. "We've just committed treason, you know."

Avethelia's eyebrows furrowed. "Well… technically _you_ did. Jedi don't answer to the Supreme Chancellor."

"Could've fooled me…" Regs said as he examined the small chip Avethelia had just removed from his brain. "Then, I suppose… neither am I, really… not anymore." He cleared his throat and looked back to her. "Thank you, ma'am."

"You don't have to call me-"

"With respect, ma'am, yes I do." Regs flexed his shoulders. "I'm not following you because you're a Jedi or because of some… chip in my brain…" Regs held up the chip as evidence. "I'm following you, because you're my Commander."

Avethelia smiled. She didn't wear praise very well, but… well, it was nice to be acknowledged. "You're your own man, Regs-"

A loud buzzing interrupted Avethelia as she walked over to the holopad by her tent and examined the frequency, a spark of excitement in her chest as she recognized the numbers. "Regs, I have to-"

"Certainly, ma'am," Regs said, standing to his feet and saluting Avethelia before exiting the tent.

Avethelia clicked a button down and smiled as a Nautolan crackled into sight. She grinned widely and bowed her head. "Master Fel."

"I'm no longer your Master, Ave-"

"I still have much more to learn from you. Master," Avethelia said with a smile as Fel hung his head, submitting. "How is it? On Lokori?"

Fel's face dropped. "Walked into a CIS ambush a couple of days ago…"

"You did?"

"No, Nostara Morro and his padawan."

"Hell…"

"That's not all…" the Nautolan crossed his arms. "Did you ever meet Bintu Boganto?"

Avethelia shook her head. "I don't think so… should I have?"

"A bright young woman- I'd have wagered she'd be a Jedi Master before any other Jedi I know."

"I don't know her…" Avethelia shrugged.

"Well… she's fallen too. Leaving her Padawan vacant…"

"Who's her Padawan?"

"Ajan Boon. A young Zabrak back on Coruscant."

"Well, why wasn't he with her?"

"I can't say I know…" Fel muttered. "But, I was hoping you might…"

"…Might what?"

"Well, you've yet to take a Padawan. Perhaps-"

"Most Padawans are reckless and foolhardy – especially the ones that worship Master Drallig," Avethelia replied abruptly, "I hardly want a hot-headed boy that chooses to solve every problem by sticking his lightsaber in it…"

"As I remember, you were an _excellent_ Padawan," Fel said with a smile. "Patient, intelligent… all fine qualities befitting a Master-"

"That's because I _had_ a good Master," Avethelia retorted. "I never cared for Master Drallig's lessons – I cared more about learning what it means to be a Jedi." Avethelia shook her head. "I think he'd grow bored and stale in my tutelage."

Fel nodded. Perhaps he'd shown Avethelia how to debate a little _too_ well… "Well, I had to ask…" Fel said in defeat.

Avethelia smiled – Fel never pushed her. "Any other casualties?"

"The strike team with Nostara Morro. Dark days for the Republic…" Fel muttered. "And I fear they shan't end soon."

"I can always come to aid-"

"You conduct your duties, Avethelia, and I shall conduct mine," Fel said sternly. Avethelia raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. Fel cracked a smile. "Cero Genovin and his Padawan are underway with their clones."

"Well, Lokori should be yours in a day or two, then."

"Force willing…" Fel nodded with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Avethelia, I wish I could talk further, but I need to issue new orders, patrols, communi-"

"I understand, Master." Avethelia smiled.

Fel leant forwards to press a button on the holotable when he looked up to Avethelia. "May the Force be with you."

"And also with you."

* * *

**An incredibly short chapter, but I've updated twice in a day so… that's something, right?**

** Review, follow, whatever. **

** R.**


	9. Corrin II

**Another Corrin chapter. A lil' longer than the last one, so here you go.**

* * *

_The Starchaser, The Gaulus System_

_19BBY_

Corrin stood beside Cero, pulling a stray thread from his dark tabard as he watched his Master's looming presence stand at the holopad.

"How many droids would it take to kill two Jedi?" He growled.

"Depends on the Jedi…" Corrin said quietly.

"And you are yet to become one, my _apprentice_," Cero hissed as he glared towards the boy. That was how Corrin knew – he wasn't acting like a Jedi should.

Corrin bowed his head. "Sorry, Master."

Cero turned his attention back towards the layout of the Republic base on Lokori. "What sort of mad gambit was this, Fel?"

"We've been awaiting re-inforcements for days-"

"And you could've waited a little while longer!" Cero barked. "How many did we lose?"

Fel looked down to his feet. "Ten clones, plus the two Jedi…"

"So, twelve."

"They sent a transmission that they would cut down as many droids as they-"

"Droids don't care if they see others get cut down!" Cero snapped. "And now you're left with, what, thirty men? Less? Would you be able to repel an attack with your numbers?"

"We'll fight for as long as we can-"

"Then you'll lose. Await reinforcements, Fel, and act less like a fool!" Cero ended the transmission and pinched the bridge of his nose. Corrin stood beside him, picking at the heavy pommel of his lightsaber. It wasn't a good time to ask, he knew that… but they were going to head into a battle. He wanted to go in with a clear head… "Speak your mind, apprentice, your thoughts are hardly dulcet…"

Corrin cleared his throat. "I… well, I've been with you four years now, and-"

"Tell me what I _don't_ know."

Corrin nodded. "I… well, I was usually allowed to visit Naboo a couple of times a year, and… well, it's been four years-"

"Has the council said you can?"

"I- they will let me if _you_ ask…"

"Jedi do not have attachments."

"But-"

"Is the war over?" Cero asked. "Will it all pause while you go home and have a holiday?"

Corrin shook his head. "No."

"No, _what_?"

"No, Master, but… it's been years…"

"Corrin…"

"I know you don't like me saying-"

"Then don't!" Cero barked. "You are acting like a _child_ and if you wish to become a Jedi, you will learn to conduct yourself as one."

Corrin opened his mouth but thought better of it. Cero was a war hero – an accomplished Jedi and… well, Corrin knew how lucky he was to be his apprentice. He didn't understand everything, but he didn't need to. It wasn't his place. "Yes, Master."

Cero crossed his arms, sweeping a hand across his hair as he examined the boy, who stood a full foot shorter and hung his head. "If you're to walk into battle at my side, you must be twice the warrior you are."

"Yes, Master. I'll tell Cr- CR9-4367 has offered to help me with Soresu."

"Soresu is easy. _My_ Padawan should be learning Shien."

"I…" Corrin cleared his throat. "Yes, Master."

Cero groaned. "Follow me…" Cero led Corrin down the metal hallways, receiving several salutes as he did. They came to the durasteel-walled training room. Cero walked into the centre of the room without looking back to Corrin. "Why do you learn Soresu before Shien?"

Corrin frowned – was Cero actually… _teaching_ him? No, it was most likely another attempt to show how much Corrin had to learn… "Because it's easier?"

"I told you that. Tell me _why_ it is easier."

Corrin frowned. "Because you…" Corrin had learned this ages ago… he could remember something, surely? "Because it's all defensive?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Corrin licked his lips – he couldn't remember much else in way of theory. "It's all defensive against blasters."

"Not entirely wrong…" Cero nodded as he waved a hand to open a panel and have a small ball float out. "Soresu is effective because it depends solely on one's focus. The defensive wall you create for yourself with your lightsaber is determined purely by your ability to concentrate on the present." He summoned his lightsaber to his hand and pressed the red button, igniting a deep blue blade. "Shien is at its most effective when wielding your blade in reverse-grip." He flourished his lightsaber and raised his hand so the blade was pointing out – protecting no part of his body. The small ball began firing streaks of blue, which Cero deflected with ease. "The advantage of Shien is that it is designed to defend against multiple enemies with blasters. Moreover, it combines the offensive nature of Makashi…" Cero paused to deflect another bolt which hit the small ball and sent it clattering onto the ground. "Which is what is needed for a battle." Corrin scratched the back of his neck – he was out of his depth. Wholly and utterly. Cero was just… infinitely better than him. "Now, apprentice."

Corrin drew his lightsaber, turning it around to reverse grip and ignited the blue blade. Cero waved a hand and three more balls sped out of the walls, all firing at once as Corrin stumbled backwards, desperately keeping the hilt close to his body. He felt the blade was too close to his torso and tried to correct this, only to get shot by a bolt in the ear. He winced and dropped his lightsaber, holding the side of his ear.

"That was pathetic," Cero commented. "Again."

Corrin leant down to pick up his lightsaber. Before he could ignite it, he caught Cero's gaze and turned the hilt around, igniting it in the Shien guard. He closed his eyes and took a breath, flourishing the blade to deflect the blue bolts. They came at him, faster and from all directions. The balls were circling him. He jumped out to the side, rolling along the floor and scrambling to his feet, lightsaber ignited once again. Only this time, the balls had stopped firing.

"A Jedi does not run."

Corrin clenched his fist and ignited the lightsaber again. He wouldn't run this time, he'd stand his ground. No matter what pain he felt, whatever panic-

He deflected the first bolt, watching another spring forth. He leant to the side, feeling the heat of the bolt pass his cheek as he deflected a third. It came to a point where Corrin wasn't so much as choosing how to deflect the bolts, but he was just reacting. It was a reflex – muscle memory. It was easy – fluid. Natural.

Corrin found himself grinning as he saw one of the balls circle around to the back of his head. Corrin spun around, keeping his eyes on the ball as he passed the lightsaber from hand to hand behind his back, swiping at the ball and sending a streak back at it. He turned back to face Cero, flourishing the blade as the two balls drifted backwards.

"Good…" Cero shed his black cloak, revealing the dark robes Corrin's mimicked. "You're where you should've been three years ago." Cero ignited his blue lightsaber and seemed to only take a single step forwards, but moved across the room in a blur, his lightsaber flashing as he took short swipes at Corrin, who immediately stumbled to the side, desperately trying to parry each of his attacks. Cero let Corrin regain his footing and paced from side to side. "The key to Ataru is recovering and redirecting kinetic energy…"

"I thought we were practicing on Shien-"

"Am I moving too fast for you, apprentice? Shall I slow down?"

"No…" Corrin said breathlessly, straightening up.

"The Force guides the three axes of the su ma-"

"I know all of this."

"Oh…" Cero raised his eyebrows. "Well, then, you should be able to parry then!" Cero arced through the air in a blur, his blue lightsaber swiping at Corrin, who raised the lightsaber to block the strike, stumbling backwards from the sheer strength of Cero. He raised his lightsaber for another blow, but Corrin cut first – striking for Cero's stomach. Cero blocked and countered, which Corrin dodged with a roll to the side. Cero gave a chuckle. "You're not big or strong enough for Djem So, apprentice."

Corrin took a step forwards and sprang into the air delivering a vertical slash, which Cero blocked with ease, tripping Corrin as he landed and watching the boy tumble onto the ground, his lightsaber clattering onto the ground.

"Get up, apprentice!" Cero snapped as he watched Corrin push himself onto his knees, wiping the blood from his lip. "If you are to remain on the floor, it will be once you have given your life in service of the Republic!"

"I'm trying!" Corrin groaned.

"Try harder!" Cero pushed a hand out and sent Corrin rolling across the floor until his head bashed into the durasteel wall. "Maybe- maybe we'll say that when we burn your body, hmm? Corrin Kordath – a boy who _tried_…"

Corrin held out a hand and felt the skin in his palm. He felt the large, silver pommel of his lightsaber drag across the floor and suddenly shoot into his hand. He groaned as he pushed himself to his feet, the room spinning as he ignited his lightsaber, looking at Cero with heavy breaths.

"Come, apprentice," Cero said, raising his blue blade. "Show me you're still a worthy padawan."

Corrin sprinted forwards, taking long steps as he swung wide with his lightsaber, trying to slice at Cero and overwhelm him with attacks. Cero grabbed his blade with both hands and began to parry each of the strikes, occasionally taking a step back from Corrin.

"Ataru is a bold move…" Cero grunted. "But you're not as elegant as you should be. And the problem with Ataru-" Cero grabbed Corrin's sword-hand. "It's predictable." Cero then thrust his forehead into Corrin's and watched the boy stumble backwards, swiping wildly and blindly with the lightsaber. Cero twirled his own and watched Corrin recover.

Corrin hissed out a breath, gripping his lightsaber tightly and watching Cero smirk. Corrin looked down to his lightsaber – Cero was right, he was being predictable. He was trying to use techniques that Cero knew well – that Cero had _mastered_.

Corrin ran towards Cero, igniting the hilt as he spun the lightsaber around. He didn't know where he was going to strike. Cero took a step back, raising the lightsaber in a high guard. Corrin, at the last moment, brought the blade into a low swipe. Cero lifted his front-foot off the ground, but Corrin barged his shoulder into the man, sending him back a large step as Corrin swung his lightsaber around with all the strength the fifteen-year-old boy could summon.

Cero's blue blade collided with Corrin's. Not pushing against him, just holding the blade in place. Corrin looked up at his master, who took a step back, deactivating the blade and looking at the boy.

"We're to train each day." Cero pointed his hilt at Corrin. "And you will _always_ land a strike on me."

Corrin nodded. "Yes, Master."

"I'll not go easy on you."

"No, Master."

Cero nodded. "You're not as hopeless as you appear," Cero said bluntly. "But that's hardly saying much…"

Corrin watched Cero exit the room, his black cloak drifting over to him. It was then and there that Corrin realized that might've been the nicest thing Cero had ever said to him.

* * *

**Well, that's it for now.**


	10. Mera II

**So, guys, I've been creating mock-up lightsabers online for each character (or, most characters) in this story, so I'll be sure to drop a link when I'm done.**

**I also just wanted to say thanks for the massive amount of reviews I just got – it does mean a lot.**

**As for people sending in characters – I'd prefer no more Jedi, BUT that doesn't mean you can't send in a Force-Sensitive character.**

* * *

_The Jedi Archives, The Jedi Temple, Coruscant, Core Systems_

_19BBY_

Zwen really did annoy Mera sometimes.

Jocasta Nu, the elderly madam of the archives, stowed her hands in her yellow robes as she watched Mera sift through the archives to make sure the events following the Great Hyperspace War were filed chronologically. Surely there was someone else who could do that? Revan, Malak, Meetra, Valkion – who even cared who they were?

"If you do not pay attention to what you are doing, I'll instruct you to do it again," Jocasta Nu informed Mera.

"Yes, Master Nu," Mera huffed as she took several steps back and began to examine the dates and timestamps of each entry.

"Don't listen to her," a young man said, leaning against the blue-and-black datacases, "she's always like that." His hair was jet black, a burnt orange plate strapped across his shoulder. "Paro." He offered a hand.

"Mera," she replied, grasping his hand. "You help-"

"Security," Paro said.

"No chance of helping me then?"

"Afraid not," Paro smiled.

As she continued sifting through the entries, she watched crowds of Jedi, only a couple of years older than herself, rush towards the balcony that overlooked the ground floor of the archives.

Mera walked over to the edge and gripped the stone railing as she saw a hooded figure enter. He was clad in dark leathers, a black glove wrapped around one of his hands, but more importantly, he was flanked on both sides by clone troopers.

"That's him…" one of the Jedi beside Mera whispered.

"I want access to the Temple's signal beacon," the hooded Jedi said as he walked towards the elderly woman that stood in the centre of the Archives.

"On who's authority?" The woman, Jocasta Nu, frowned.

"By order of the Supreme Chancellor," the hooded figure spoke calmly, but there was something else to his voice. A hollowness. It unsettled Mera – the hairs on her arms began to stand up.

Jocasta Nu must've felt the same thing, as she quickly drew her blue lightsaber. "That is _not_ within the Chancellor's power!" She said firmly. "Only the Jedi Council can authorise access."

The hooded figure raised a hand, lifting the woman into the air. A moment later, she soared towards him and was impaled on the blue blade of his lightsaber before being tossed between the rows of databases.

Mera covered her mouth as she saw the hooded figure look up. The light hazel hair, young, sculpted features… it was Master Skywalker! His eyes danced across all of the Jedi who watched. "The Council is no longer in control!"

The Jedi that stood beside Mera vaulted over the balcony, landing around Skywalker and igniting their lightsabers as the clones raised their rifles.

"You won't get away with this Skywalker!" One of the Jedi shouted, pointing a finger at him.

Mera watched as Skywalker's blue blade flashed between the three Knights. He grabbed one by the throat, bashing his blade against another before thrusting his lightsaber through the heart of the girl he choked.

Mera turned and ran. She crashed through the doors and shut them behind her, frantically pressing the closure code. She was outside, watching the steady lines of traffic as speeders zipped behind the great turquoise statue that towered over her.

Master Zwen. She had to find Master Zwen!

Mera hopped down the stairs and began running across to the dojo, looking back to see the door from the archives be blown open as Master Skywalker emerged. Paro leapt down from the balcony, landing in front of Skywalker and igniting his green blade.

If she was braver, she would've run to help him. Instead, Mera sprinted into the building, typing in the code for the door and hoping that would keep it shut. She leant against the wall and slid down, breathing deeply.

Why was he doing this? She'd _seen_ him cut down men and women. But this was Master _Skywalker_ – a war hero! The youngest member of the council – trained personally by Master Obi-Wan Kenobi – everyone knew about them!

Mera tried to keep her breath in her lungs, but the screams and blasterfire outside was followed by a load crash and rumbling. The screams fell silent and Mera backed away from the door, the only sounds being her footsteps echoing down the long halls as she walked past the blue flickering light of the holotables.

Something loud and silent was in the back of her head. Like a scream without noise. The panic on a face. She fell to her feet and crawled into the corner of the room as a hunk of stone – part of the great statue – crumbled through the door, flying through the room and obliterating stone and steel.

Mera coughed and touched her face, her hand sodden with blood. Her breath leapt up into her throat as she let out a small, panicked moan, looking up to see the shadow of the hooded figure approach.

She ran past the three Jedi, who all charged Skywalker. She made it to the doorway, running inside and keying the code to activate a ray shield around the door to the study hall in the temple.

She ran along the walkway, watching the setting sun on the horizon. Why was this happening? What had changed? Why were the troops turning on them? She had to find Zwen – she could go to the hangar – there'd be Jedi there, she'd be safe!

She came to the archway, where two large, blue-skinned temple guards stood, looking at her inquisitively. "Youngling, your face-"

"It's Master Skywalker," Mera panted. "He's killing us- clones, he's brought clones with him-"

"Skywalker?" One of the guards frowned.

"I need to find Master Zwen! Please- let me into the hangar…"

One of the guards walked towards the archway, raising a hand and bringing down the stone doorway. "Go, youngling," the guard closest to Mera said, drawing his lightsaber hilt and igniting both emerald blades. "Find your Master and lock the door behind you.

Mera ducked past him and did as instructed, finding a handful of Jedi deflecting the blue streaks of blasterfire from clone troopers. How did they get inside? How many of them were they?

Mera heard a shudder and began to frantically look around – she didn't know how to fly! What was she thinking, how could she- she needed to go, she needed to get somewhere else – she needed to find Zwen! But she didn't know how to get to the dojo from the hangar…

Mera's gaze fell to her boots and she found a small grate below her – she could fit in there. She'd be safe in that small space.

Mera opened it up and clambered inside, peering out to see the hangar doors open and Master Skywalker opened, lightsaber ignited.

Skywalker raised a hand, throwing one of them into a wall with a crack before swinging his blue blade around in a flurry, severing hands and arms before beheading another.

Mera curled up in a ball as she watched Skywalker march towards the door. "Jedi traitor…" he murmured to himself.

Skywalker carved his way towards a cannon and sat in the gunner seat, firing rapidly as starfighters whirred. Blasterfire cascaded around the hangar, shaking the entire temple as Mera covered her ears, her knees pulled up to her chest as she screwed her eyes shut. She was fine, she was safe, she was fine, she was safe, she was fine, she was safe…

The blasterfire ceased and behind the distant ringing, Mera heard a voice, "Sir, we've breached the control room."

Mera peered up to see Skywalker climbing down from the cannon and walk back towards the door with the clone, his gaze flitting across the corpses of Jedi and clones. His expression didn't change – he was cold. As if none of it mattered to him. That wasn't Anakin Skywalker.

He stopped at the door, his head moving up beneath his hood. Mera crouched down further. A moment passed and he drew his lightsaber, igniting the blue blade and turning around.

A young Zabrak leapt down onto the grate, igniting his dark blue lightsaber and charging Skywalker.

He brought the blade down with a crash, both men pushing their lightsabers down on one another. Mera could make him out as Ajan – the Padawan Serra had spoke of.

Mera looked down the grates and began to crawl, listening to the grunts and yells as starfighters crashed and clunked. Mera scarpered along until a blue lightsaber plunged into the vent before being withdrawn quickly.

"You're a traitor-" Ajan shouted as the crackling lightsabers collided once again.

"You think you have a chance?" Skywalker said, his voice as hollow as before.

Mera arrived at another grate. Another crackle, another grunt and Ajan let out a short yell. His head rolled along the floor until one of his horns caught the grate, his vacant eyes looking into Mera's.

"Jedi scum…" Skywalker murmured.

* * *

**Yup, here's that chapter done. I hope you all enjoyed… but, yeah. This is the chapter I had in mind as soon as I accepted Mera and… well, it was better in my head. I hope you all liked it though.**

** Next chapter should be up soon-ish. We've only got 4 more chapters left of this one. I'll see you for the next one...  
**

**R.**


	11. Ruv II

**So, these chapters are likely going to be quite short – I just want to show what you need to see rather than write an unnecessarily long chapter. But, because it's such a short chapter, I'll try and update another one later.**

* * *

_Dantooine, the Riaballo Sector, Outer Rim Territories_

_19BBY_

Ruv breathed heavily, pushing his back against the wall and peering around the corner. The clones… it wasn't a war, it was a hunt. He could still see Master To-Gollo on the floor, leg bent out of shape from his fall from the rooftop.

Ruv kept his curved hilt in hand, jogging down the corridor towards the hangar. He wouldn't be able to find a starfighter, that was certain, but maybe a land speeder. He looked down at his grey robes, muttering to himself; he couldn't go into the infirmary – even injured, each clone had been trained to kill. No, he'd have to leave everything behind – all he had was his lightsaber.

A loud klaxon blared, followed by the intercom's crackling voice. "Lockdown in effect. Lockdown in effect. Lockdown in effect…"

Ruv let out a short hiss and peered around the corner to see the door in the distance begin to close. That door led to the eastern side of the station – closer towards the hangar. Ruv pushed himself away from the wall and sprinted towards the door, panting and huffing as he raced towards it. The door was closing, but he was almost there- if he could just get in…

A streak of blue flew over Ruv's shoulder, crashing into the orange door. He didn't dare look behind – hearing the voice told him all he needed to know.

"It's the Jedi!"

Ruv leapt forwards towards the small crack left in the door. The first thing he felt was the force – the force of his head hitting the door. Second, he felt the cold durasteel on his back as he rolled onto his side, his fingterips fumbling the pommel of his hilt. Another blue streak fired into Ruv's ankle. He clutched his leg in pain, igniting the emerald blade and flourishing the blade, sending the bolts of blue towards the wall to his right and the long window to his left.

"We've trapped the Jedi! Sector 9, by the Khooana!"

Ruv deflected another bolt, shattering the window that the pink evening sunlight dazzled through. There, he heard the river running below. Well… it was dangerous, that was certain enough. It was a nine foot drop (give or take) – something he could survive, but there was no telling what it would do to his leg… He didn't know how deep the water was. Nor did he know how to land properly in water. A river that strong – it could mean certain death for him.

But, then, staying in the facility was certain death. Ruv saw more clones gather and made up his mind. At least he had a chance.

Ruv deflected the blasterfire as he limped towards the edge, breaking into a run and gritting his teeth before leaping out, frantically deactiving his lightsaber and attaching it to his belt. As he finished, he looked down to see himself rapidly approaching the water. He covered his face and landed on his side, letting out a yelp under the water.

It was cold. Freezing. His grey woollen robes grew heavy as if they were anchors upon his chest. His arms were pulled over his head as he rolled around, his ankle being yanked out of its socket.

Ruv's face was pushed out from underneath the water. He gasped for air, feeling his lungs swell and ache. The water rotated his body until Ruv came to face a large stone. He splashed backwards frantically. He pushed a hand forwards to grab the rock, but upon touching it, the large boulder cracked in two, its cloven halves sinking into the riverbed.

The water slowed and Ruv swam, pulling his tired, bruised legs onto the shore. He crawled forwards, feeling the mud coat and cake his fingers – he'd never been so happy to feel dirt.

Ruv looked over to the distant facility – how far had that river carried him? He pushed himself onto his knees, watching the Republic cruiser enter the atmosphere. He rose to his feet. Was that cruiser coming to help him? That many clones… that couldn't be a rogue unit.

The good news was that he was far enough away he'd have a headstart. But he realized that they'd watched him go into the river. He had to head far away from it if he had a hope.

Ruv was on his own.

* * *

**Well, yeah – shortest chapter so far, I know. But that's not because of this character or anything in particular – the fact is that it felt boring to do the whole 'surprise ambush' thing – we saw that in the last chapter. What I was trying to do was show the shock and panic, but in a different way to Mera.**

** I'll see you soon!**

** R.**


	12. Ving II

**Okay, so, another short-ish chapter. I kinda wanted to make this more internal rather than 'action, action, action!' So, I hope that sits well with you all. **

**Also, to the Guest that keeps asking about Game of Thrones updates – I understand you want the exciting conclusion – I'm excited to write it, but there's several gaps in the story plan. I've written myself into corners before and I **_**really**_** don't want to do that with that series. I might update the prequel series, but no-one really showed interest in that… let me know if that's alright with you – hope you understand.**

**Anyhoo, P.A. over – enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

_Valley of the Dark Lords, Moraband, Sith Worlds_

_19BBY_

Ving finally opened his eyes. The darkness and hate and anger- it was as though he'd been holding his hands over a candle's flame for too long. He remained on his knees, looking down at the kyber crystal in front of him. It had once been red like blood and flesh, but now glistened in the sunlight – clear and white.

He began to disassemble the hilt of his lightsaber, setting the new crystal where his old green one had been. He held is hands on either side of the hilt, closing his eyes at the hilt began to assemble itself. Finally, it was done. He picked up the hilt; all long and intimidating – the result of adding forgotten Sith components. He pressed on the switch, grinning as the white blade sprang forth from the emitter. Ving grinned, deactivating the blade with a snap-hiss.

Ving clipped the hilt to his belt and began to make his way back to his starfighter – no doubt the Council may finally grow tired of his escapades. Well, damn the Council – old men that believed they knew better, when in fact, they actually _feared_ the Force. Choosing not to educate their Jedi on the Sith, pretending the Dark Side was the enemy…

Ving had learnt all he could from the Jedi. And remaining a Jedi was restricting him. It was time for him to leave. He knew that meant leaving Xyras too, but… well, Xyras wasn't like him. Xyras was a Jedi Knight, through and through. He needed the Council, he needed the Code.

Ving wasn't a Jedi, so it was time for him to stop pretending to be. It was time for him to be who he truly was – something else.

He climbed into the cockpit of his starfighter and heard a loud beeping from the holopad – a transmission from the _Starchaser_. He hoped it wasn't that obtusely obnoxious soldier, Cero Genovin. He rolled his eyes and clicked the switch, watching the hologram flicker.

A smile danced across his lips as he saw the blue hologram of the Wookie come into focus. "Master Barhyatt!" Ving leant forwards. "I've not-"

Barhyatt let out a loud growl as crackles and bolts streaked through in the background.

"What's going on?" Ving frowned. Barhyatt let out another growl. "What do you mean, they can't just…" Barhyatt growled again and Ving fell back into his seat. If he had been on the _Starchaser_ with them… would he have been killed also? The clones… they couldn't just _turn _on them- there must've been a reason. "Have you contacted the Council? The Chancellor?" Barhyatt replied in another howl before the transmission cut off.

Ving rubbed his fair forehead. The Council weren't responding. He felt something in his stomach – a pit of dread and despair. They… was this happening with all the clones? Surely not…

Ving frantically began to key in the codes for Xyras' frequency. He was on Coruscant – with all the Jedi, surely he'd be safe! That many Jedi – no amount of clones could defeat them, he was sure of it!

He waited as the holopad beeped for a minute. Then another minute. Then another.

Ving cursed and slammed his fist into the holopad. It felt good. He hit the holopad again and let out a yell before slumping back into his seat, holding his face. He must've known someone else…

He keyed in the frequency for the Knight on Dantooine, To-Gollo. More beeping. He tried Zwen, also on Coruscant. Constant beeping. He tried Cero Genovin, Barhyatt's holopad and… nothing.

Ving pushed his light brown hair back from his face and climbed out of his starfighter, pacing along the sand. They couldn't all be dead – there must've been a problem with his starfighter – perhaps a sandstorm somewhere on the planet was interfering…

Ving fell to his knees and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind. He couldn't contact anyone, but he could at least try to sense them. He breathed deeply and tried to clear his mind of doubt and worry. He thought about Xyras, about Zwen and To-Gollo…

Ving opened his eyes and all he found was a hole there. An emptiness. There was something that was also nothing – like a scar in place of where they were. The space where someone used to be.

Ving pushed himself to his feet, looking back to his starfighter. He'd need to get rid of it as soon as possible… more importantly he needed to go somewhere with no clones – somewhere remote.

Ving climbed back into his cockpit and began to look through the systems. He'd find somewhere in the Outer Rim – maybe Tatooine? It was Hutt space, so the Empire surely wouldn't find him there… Perhaps he could find a new life for himself out on the dunes.

Ving paused; he knew what he was doing. He was doing as the Jedi did – ignoring his feelings. He closed his eyes and remembered what his Master told him – that feelings were not the lure of darkness. He was the instrument the Force worked through. If he were to just embrace his feelings, they could not be used against him. For with his anger came a former serenity. His hatred and hurt was born from love.

Ving breathed out and looked at the map. He would be hunted for the rest of his life. He was allowed to fear scared and angry… but he needed to use the dark feelings to motivate himself into _fixing_ this.

But he had no idea how to fix it. For the first time in his life, he didn't know what the Force intended for him.

* * *

**Well, that's Ving's chapter guys! I'll update tomorrow, where we'll jump back to see Avethelia. I'll also try to squeeze in a Corrin chapter.**

**NOW, here's what I'd like in reviews – if you wouldn't mind going through which characters you like and why, that'd be **_**very**_** helpful. You can also say what you'd like to see for each character because, well, that helps me in writing. **

**Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow!**

**R.**


	13. Avethelia III

**Okay, so, here's the next chapter. Some more Avethelia for ya! Not quite as long as I thought it would be, but I think I got the job done.**

* * *

_The Howling Ruins, Vaklin_

_19BBY_

Avethelia sat inside her tent, tearing off the bread to eat and immediately hiccupping. She let out a small sigh of frustration and opened her canteen to drink some more water. Finding it empty, she left her tent to find her clone troopers sat around the campfire, all eating.

"Ma'am," Bronzie jumped up to his feet. The other clones sniggered at him.

"You're jumpy…" Avethelia said, leaning down to pick up one of their canteens and help herself.

"We…" Haze said slowly, "well, we've come up with a name for our squad… what's left of our squad anyway…"

Avethelia looked across to Regs curiously. "Oh?" He grinned and nodded to Bronzie.

"X Squad," Bronzie said.

"X as in…?" Avethelia asked.

"Excavating," Haze explained.

Avethelia chuckled. "Well, it's rather apt, I'll grant you that – and I think you men have earned the right to call yourselves whatever you want."

"I'm going to get more food…" Cub murmured, pushing himself off the dirt and wandering back to his tent.

"Speaking of excavating," Avethelia said, opening her satchel to find the hilt of a vibroblade, "I've got something that'll amaze you!"

"Oh- hang on…" Regs said, taking his beeping holopad from his belt and walking away.

"Bronzie, Haze, take a look at this – the hilt of this vibroblade is made of ovobark. _Ovobark_ – it's a tree that grows exclusively on Tython…" She looked up to see Haze lean down to pick up his gun. "Haze, is something-"

She felt a burn across her face as Bronzie fired a shot at her. Avethelia fell to the floor, clutching her cheek as she desperately felt around her waist for her lightsaber. She looked up at Bronzie and Haze and drew her lightsaber as they raised their blasters.

"Bron…" Avethelia winced, "Bronzie, don't make me do this…" She pushed herself up to her feet, her thumb hovering over the switch of the hilt.

Two blaster bolts. Bronzie and Haze fell to the floor – both of them had been shot in the head.

Regs walked over, his blaster pistol in hand as he leant out to help Avethelia up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, looking over at the corpses. It was Haze and Bronzie – they'd been together for over a year… they'd been _friends_.

"They tried to kill me…" Avethelia said quietly.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" Regs asked, taking a step back from her.

Avethelia touched her cheek and winced. "I'm fine." She closed her eyes – she didn't want to see Bronzie and Haze lying there, smoke whirling out from their heads. "Why did they do that?" Avethelia asked in little more than a whisper.

Regs removed the holopad from his belt and replayed the transmission. A hooded figure stood there, face wholly obscured as he rasped out three words. "Execute Order Sixty-Six."

Avethelia frowned. "Sixty-six?"

"Purge the Jedi Order," Regs informed her, stowing away the holopad.

Avethelia's jaw clenched. "How long has that been an order?"

Regs licked his lips. "It's always been an order, ma'am."

"The Chancellor…" Avethelia muttered. "This… this has to be a mistake!" She walked towards the bodies of Bronzie and Haze.

"It's no mistake, ma'am. All Jedi are enemies of the Republic – to be shot on sight!"

"But…" Avethelia knelt down, her hand touching the cold plastasteel chestplate on Bronzie. "We were friends…"

"We do as we're ordered," Regs muttered.

"Not you." Avethelia rose to her feet. "Regs, I don't even know how to-"

"You don't need to, Ave," Regs said quickly. "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be their puppet." He looked to the bodies of his fallen comrades. "Their plaything…"

Avethelia sat down. She needed to get back to Coruscant – warn the rest of the Jedi while she could. And the younglings… the younglings wouldn't be in danger, would they?

Regs pulled his commlink from his belt and spoke into it. "Sergeant RG8-1091 reporting in." The intercom crackled for a moment. "Units RZ1-0930 and HZ9-1152 are down, repeat, units down. Confirming kill on target."

There was a pause as Regs waited for a response. "Copy, Sergeant, exfil in five."

Regs put his commlink away and looked back to Avethelia. "Make your way into town - they'll hide you, I know they will…"

"No, I need my ship – I need to get to Coruscant-"

Regs grabbed Avethelia's shoulder. "You need to survive, Ave."

"Target still on the move!"

Regs and Avethelia turned to see Cub shouting into his intercom, raising his blaster and exchanging shots with Regs. The two men charged each other, beating and kneeing and headbutting each other until Regs caught the younger clone in a headlock. He let out a loud yell as Cub clawed at his arms before Regs tightened his grip and, with a crack in his neck, Cub fell still.

Regs looked down at his arm – riddled with blasterfire. Avethelia helped him up, looking at his arm. "I always liked my left better…" Regs said, exhausted. Avethelia pulled his good arm around her neck and began to carry him towards the ruins, near the tomb she'd explored days prior.

Regs paused, turning around to look up into the atmosphere and seeing something plunge down towards them. "They'll need proof…" He muttered.

"Regs, come on-"

Regs turned towards Avathelia and tore the gauntlet from her wrist – the gauntlet that transmitted her life signs. "Pleasure serving with you, ma'am," Regs said as he pushed her down into the tomb. As Avethelia fell, his face disappeared into stone and fire as the ruins crumbled down, sealing her into the tomb.

* * *

**Okay guys. The next chapter will be up soon. Only one more after that and then Fall of the Order is officially finished.**

**R.**


	14. Corrin III

**The penultimate chapter – I've also finished the lightsabers – they're fairly close to what you all described, but for obvious reasons, they couldn't be 100% accurate. But yeah – I'll be dropping the pinterest link at some point.**

* * *

_The Starchaser, The Gaulus System_

_19BBY_

Corrin stood beside Cero, lightsaber ignited and flourishing and twirling the blade around, sending the blue bolts into the durasteel walls while his Master deflected the bolts back into the clone troopers.

The large wookie let out a growl as he threw a mighty elbow into the keypad. It fizzled for a moment before a heavy door dropped in front of Corrin and Cero. The wookie then set about sealing it shut with his lightsaber.

"Thank you, Barhyatt," Cero said as he walked to the other side of the room, typing in the code for the door. "We can either go left to the escape pods or right to the hangar. Three Jedi should be enough of a force to…"

Corrin stopped paying attention as his legs gave way. His breathing was shallow as he rubbed a hand against his stinging, honey-gold eyes. He knew he should be brave, he knew he should do something more, but he just wanted to go back home. He wanted to see his parents again, his aunt and uncle and his cousins.

Corrin felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Cero there, staring deep into his eyes. "Those clones are now our enemy, boy," Cero informed him, "we kill them or they kill us, you understand me?" Corrin nodded. "Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes, Master."

"I cannot afford to waste time looking after you. You want to be a Jedi, this is what it means, apprentice." Corrin nodded as Cero pulled him to his feet. "Barhyatt, how many of them are coming here?" The wookie growled in response. "What, you don't know how to count?" The wookie let out another throaty grumble again and Cero cursed, kicking a small plastoid crate across the room. "Palpatine, you damn traitor…" he muttered.

"Palpatine?" Corrin asked.

"Who the hell else?" Cero muttered as he walked towards the door, readying his lightsaber. "Barhyatt, we make our way to the starfighters."

Barhyatt stood beside Cero, igniting his lime green blade and taking a high guard.

Corrin took a breath. He didn't have a choice – if he stuck with Master Cero, everything would be fine. Cero would see him home safe.

Cero waved a hand and the door slid open. The Jedi Master, Knight and Padawan all exited the room, running down the wide hallway and towards three lines of clone troopers. The three of them deflected the bolts with Barhyatt advancing forwards with a fierce roar. Clones began to fall, but the klaxon blared and more could be seen in the distance.

Barhyatt's lightsaber deactivated and rolled away as a blue streak singed the hair on his shoulder. Several more hit him until he fell to the floor, groaning weakly and crawling towards his lightsaber.

Corrin suddenly fell backwards, clutching his eye as his lightsaber crackled and rolled down the corridor. He scrambled after it, only to find a sizzling hole where the crystal used to be. Corrin's eyes fell on the door to an escape pod. He looked back to see Cero cursing and slashing wildly as he approached the clones.

"Master!" Corrin shouted, frantically keying in the code. The door opened and he looked back to Cero. "Master, please!"

Cero grunted and continued charging the clones, summoning Barhyatt's lightsaber and igniting the second blade, slashing and slicing his way until he stood in front of Barhyatt.

"Get him!" Cero shouted to Corrin. "Get Barhyatt!"

Corrin tried to move towards Barhyatt, only to see blue bolts of blasterfire spray around the escape pod. "Come on, Master!" Corrin said to Barhyatt. "_Please_!"

Barhyatt looked from Corrin to Cero and pushed himself to his feet, letting out a howl and charging the clones.

Corrin looked back to the escape pod – he couldn't help them without a lightsaber. More than that, Corrin was scared. He felt it grip his ankles, rooting him to the ground as he watched the two figures kill and shout. He'd never killed anything before.

Cero turned back to see Corrin. He pointed a finger. "Apprentice, don't you-"

Corrin clambered inside and frantically pressed the button to eject the pod planetward.

He was left standing there, looking through the small window to see the Jedi become distant figures. Corrin slid down onto the floor – what had he done? He'd… he'd left them behind to die. He was a coward, a traitor – a Jedi would've been braver than him. He was meant to be Cero's apprentice.

Corrin looked down at the broken lightsaber in his hand – good. He wasn't worthy of it. He let it drop from his fingers and onto the floor as he sat in the chair, pulling his knees up to his chest and screwing his eyes shut, wiping his pale, tear-stained cheeks on his woollen britches as the pod soared towards Lokori.

Once again, Corrin had failed Master Cero.

* * *

**Yup, another short one. But I feel like there's a fair bit to talk about there. So, drop a review and stuff and I'll see you for the final chapter of **_**Fall of the Order**_** in a few hours.**

**Also, I've decided to hop between this and my RDR series, so you'll be waiting a lil' bit for the next installation of this.**

**R.**


	15. Mera III

**So, the last chapter. I've kinda had this in mind for a while. It's going to be short because this is more of an epilogue than anything else.**

* * *

_The Jedi Temple, Coruscant, the Core Systems_

_19BBY_

Mera fell onto her hands and knees as she climbed out of the small grate – it was mainly used for maintenance droids. If she'd been an inch taller, she doubted she'd have been able to make it through.

Mera peeled off her grey tabard, stripping off the dirtied rags until her simple undershirt, britches and boots remained. She ran a hand across her freckled cheeks before pulling the band on her red hair loose. She could pass for a common civilian – maybe visiting from the lower levels.

Mera traversed the alleyways, stuffing her lightsaber hilt down the front of her britches and pulling her overshirt over it. She heard noises – a commotion. Her first instinct was to run, but… people – she'd be safe where there were people.

Mera crept closer down the alleyway until she peered around the corner to see red and black banners billowing in front of the smoking wreckage of the Jedi Temple. Throngs of people were jumping up and down, cheering and shaking their fists as clone troopers stood in front – as if they were peacekeepers. Mera knew the truth…

"Today," called the voice of a man standing in front of the temple, behind the clone troopers, "marks the day that the nefarious fanatics of the Jedi Order met a just end!" The crowd cheered and Mera looked around; they couldn't hate the Jedi – they were being lied to! She had to tell them what really happened…

The girl began to push her way to the front. "It's not true!" She tried to shout over the crowds.

"After the savage attempt on our Emperor's life, these traitors have been rooted out and destroyed! All were offered mercy, but all chose to die!"

"That's not what happened-" Mera tried to shout in hopes that anyone would hear her. As she tried to move through the crowd, an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close to a strong body. She was carried out of the crowd and into the darkest alley.

Mera's heart hammered as she began to kick and punch and scream. A hand covered her mouth and she bit down hard. The figure yelped – a man. She wriggled free and reached into her britches, producing her lightsaber. Before she could even activate it, it flew from her grasp into the man's hand. He wore a black jacket and gloves over a white shirt. His dark hair was slicked back, his beard groomed well. His sapphire eyes stared into hers with warm familiarity.

"You remember me?" The man asked.

Mera nodded slowly, swallowing. "Master Xyras…"

"Xyras died in that temple," he informed her. "So did Mera Asola. You understand?"

Mera let out a breath. "I understand."

Xyras approached her, handing her back her lightsaber. "You _never_ use this unless you have to. _Never_."

Mera hugged Xyras' waist. "Master Skywalker…" she said in a muffled voice. "He tried to… he almost…"

Mera felt Xyras' hands pat her back. "It's okay, it's okay…"

"What happened to the others? The other Jedi?" Mera looked up at the man with her bright green eyes.

"Mera, the Jedi are all gone."

Mera licked her lips as she looked up and down the alleyway. "What happens now?" She asked Xyras. He scratched his brown hair, muttering under his breath as his deep blue eyes fell on the young girl for a moment.

"Let's just… let's find you some new clothes first. And maybe some food…" Xyras wrapped an arm around Mera's shoulder. "Where are you from?"

"Naboo."

"No chance of hiding out there… Sheev Palpatine is from there- it'll surely be watched for fugitives."

"For what?"

"Don't worry."

"Well… where are you from?"

"Not somewhere you'd like to visit."

"Why not?"

Xyras paused and crouched down so he was looking into Mera's bright green eyes. "Mera, where I was born was not a nice place. It was very dangerous and very scary. It's no place for a child-"

"But we'll be safe there, won't we? Safe from the clones-"

"But not from others."

"Master," Mera said quietly, "Master Skywalker will be nearby. I don't want to be around him- not the same city, the same planet- the same _system_! Please."

Xyras let out a long sigh as he glanced around the alleyway. He removed his black and red jacket, pulling it over Mera's shoulders. "Let's just get you some clothes first."

The two of them walked away, Mera clutching onto his hand as they disappeared into the crowds of civilians in the megatropolis, beginning the search for their new life.

* * *

**And I think I'll leave it there. I was originally going to end this at like 500 words but decided to add a teensy bit extra. So, yeah, this is uber-short, but I think it's a fitting end for the story.**

**So, **_**Fall of the Order**_** has ended – I hope you all enjoyed. Honestly, it felt a little lacklustre for me, but that's because there's no real story here – it's a prologue of sorts. Now, as for when I'll start the second instalment, it won't be for a short while, as I'm going to start on my almost-neglected 'West' series (RDR). So, I hope to see you all when I post the next instalment of this. My current working title for it is '**_**Reign of the Sith**_**'.**

**See you for the next one!**

**R.**


	16. Sequel: Reign of the Empire

**So, yeah, I've gotta post the sequel link here - three chapters are up, so... enoy it!**

**I figured I'd quickly just say here that I ****am**** looking for more characters. More specifically, a couple of non-Force users that I think I could use a lot of, but... like, lemme throw down some ground rules...**

**1\. No Mandalorians - I've recieved something close to 20 bounty hunters and each one is the superist-duperist gunslinger around. That's not a bad thing - this is ****_Star Wars _****with chosen ones and stuff, but I'm not writing about chosen ones. Or these Mandalorian super-soldiers. I'm writing about a bunch of random people who are affected by Order 66 - I personally believe my story's pretty decent because none of these characters are noticeably 'strong in the Force' - in fact, all of them are flawed in their own major ways. I just don't think Mandalorians belong in my story...**

**2\. This is canon - please remember this when submitting characters. I think someone wanted to send in Mace Windu's apprentice? Or Yoda's or something and... yeah, when I personally read something that includes... Anakin's secret sister or Padme's Jedi brother, I sorta just think 'Oh... so this is nothing to do with the films them?' I know it's bad, but I don't like writing canon-breaking stuff. So, kindly remember that and stick to it, please?**

**3\. Storyline ideas - when I ask for storyline ideas, please ****don't**** just put 'they fall to the Dark Side' because... that's not a storyline? Falling to the Dark Side is something that happens as a result of the storyline - think about Luke saving Leia, Leia saving Han, Han... well... Han just sorta does stuff, but you get the point. Come up with a short idea for a storyline (such as X wants revenge on Y for Z, or X wants to become a Y, or even X hates Z so wants to team up with Y, not knowing [insert twist here]) and chat to me about it.**

**Okay, rant over. You guys are great reviewers and readers - I ****love**** how much you guys care about these characters because it really motivates me to write them right, well and often. So, check out the latest installment, **_Reign of the Empire_**, and please remember to follow and drop a review!**

s/ 13 54 01 69 / 1/ STAR-WARS-Reign-of-the-Empire

**R.**


End file.
